


Angel Hair

by VictorianLesbian



Category: Holby City
Genre: AAU family, Bernie in uniform, Canon Divergent, F/F, Masturbation, No Jason, Scary Serena, Slow Burn, hate/love, hot lesbian surgeon, write for contest, “Make me” or “prov it”
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-27 12:50:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10021481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VictorianLesbian/pseuds/VictorianLesbian
Summary: The first time Serena sees Bernie on her ward, things are not exactly idyllic between the two women. Serena's hate for Bernie is almost instant. Who knows if she will ever change her mind on the blonde army medic?





	

**Author's Note:**

> written for Janetfraiser contest on tumblr

Another damn workday begins, the elevator opens its doors and you're suddenly in the hallway. Your feet are moving forward - Well, by God, you're a doctor and you know how that works: muscles, tendons, electrical impulses going through your muscles - but your brain has commanded you to go back, take the lift back to the car park, get in the car, run home, take cover in your bed under layers of quilts and blankets.  
_'Be strong, Campbell.'_ You say to yourself when you realize how childish you are now.  
Everything had happened less than a week ago - five days to be exact - but this situation has been going on for centuries, it seems.  
_'Ridiculous!'_ It's your department, your family, it's not hers!. - _'Walk in with your head held high!'_ \- You say to yourself while grabbing the AAU badge and open its doors.  
The department is bathed in the soft mid-morning light, the snow outside the window gives a glow and a candour to everything around it. You take a deep breath, but even before you can say good morning, you see her.  
Angel Hair is at the nurses' station, Morven, shamelessly, flirts with her and, right away, a look of disgust distorts your features.  
Since angel hair came in less than a week ago, the department is perpetually immersed in a sort of Valentine's Day and you can not stand it. The day of her arrival had been quite unique and definitely outside the rules. She had arrived inside the ward with her dress uniform, apologizing for the delay and the inappropriate clothing, babbling of an official army event this morning. You did not believe a single word, but within five minutes, the blonde ex-army doctor had F1s and Juniors dropping down at her feet and whenever they walked in the department.  
Her blond curls, made more ethereal by the blinding light of day, the lean body in full uniform, made her look like a bloody Lady Oscar in the flesh, and had young maidens faint with a glance and a smile.  
You had loved Lady Oscar when Elinor was a child - a proud woman who courageously met her fate, an androgynous figure of undeniable beauty - but just that scene had been enough to drain all your love for the fictional character, leaving behind just the image of angel hair in your department.  
In that moment your hatred for Berenice Griselda bloody Wolfe had started.  
You take cover in your office, but the obsession with that woman haunts you even in there. You hate Hanssen with all your strength, what had gotten into that man when he had thought of assigning you a co-lead in your family, your office?  
The day before a bouquet of roses had landed on your desk, it was from some admirer, and not for you, but rather for your co-lead. Bernie had laughed about it and had distributed each flower among the women in the department. You had obviously received your rose that had been trashed without a second thought. Needless to say, the girls were even more enamoured with Angel Hair.  
The nickname had appeared in the corridors of the entire hospital during her first day. The girls used it as a secret code. It goes without saying that you understood immediately who they were talking about.  
The door opens and the woman who, it seems, was always in your thoughts at work, appears.  
«I thought no-one was in here.» She apologizes immediately, averting her gaze and running away with a heavy blush high on her cheeks usually as pale as the driven snow outside your window.  
You wonder why with you she is so distant, and always hurriedly trying to escape your crossing paths. She has a kind word for everyone, Bernice Wolfe and, apparently, since she has arrived, nobody is able to properly do their job. Everyone seems to perpetually be in need of some advice. Even a cut on the chin or a splinter of wood in a finger seem an insurmountable task without the advice of Ms. Wolfe.  
Bernie, always polite and friendly, exchanges smiles and everyone laughs at her jokes, her low and soothing voice charms every woman and inspires respect among men. An army woman so accustomed to danger, everyone can imagine her high on a white horse while bombs fall from the sky.  
Her firm and confident walk through the department seems to shout "Here comes the hero, make room" but you are not easily influenced and you look at her with a critical eye as she works busily between AAU patients while you are destined to piles of paperwork and office work to ensure that the well-oiled machine continues to function as it always has before the Angel hair's arrival.  
You dive head first in your desk work and when you come up for air your morning shift is well an truly over.  
You check the day's calendar again and feel a wave of joy wash over you when you find there are two scheduled surgeries, routine ones and you have done them a million times, but at least they give you the chance to get back to the side of medicine you feel closer to you. After lunch the red phone starts ringing, destroying all your certainties. A bus full of schoolchildren has had a bad accident because of all that snow that has fallen in the last few hours and the department was full of more or less unscathed kids. The driver, a placid bald man, had been taken immediately to the operating room with a street sign stuck in his chest and you and Bernie are forced to work shoulder to shoulder for the first time. Your gestures are immediately coordinated and you're surprised when you look into her eyes. You had never noticed how much her eyes are able to talk for her. The concentration in saving the man's life makes you forget your hatred for Berenice and more than once your hands graze one another in the chest cavity. You work as a single person while you rip your patient from death several times. You are exhausted after hours of surgery but you don't give up. The nurses around you take turns to rest, but you and her are there for every second of those intense hours and finally, when everything is sewed up and fixed, you allow yourself to sit together in the same office.  
Maybe angel hair is not as bad as you had thought. Her shy smile, as you complimented each other on the good job, the eyes forever looking away from yours, they make you imagine that behind that sullen appearance lurks something different. You grab your coat to go home and you see the withered rose in your waste basket.  
A small drop of guilt hits you for the first time but you pointedly ignore it.

When you get back to work the next day you don't dream of running away like the day before, things can only get better from now on. You get to the AAU doors and a blonde mane is there waiting, watching the door as if expecting it to magically open in front of her.  
«What are you doing out here?» You ask extracting your badge that immediately opens the doors  
through which you both walk.  
«I forgot my badge.» She tells you so avoiding your gaze carefully so you choose to lend her yours temporarily to go change in her blue scrubs, but when she comes back dressed exactly as she was, you realize something's up.  
«What's happening?» You ask even if you think this is none of your business. But if something is happening in the hospital it is your duty to report it.  
«Nothing.» She declares but you know that she's lying. It is as if she had it written on her forehead in large letters, and you don't understand the reason for lying.  
«Ms. Wo- Bernie » You catch yourself in time, «Where's your scrubs? Where's your badge?» You question, trying not to sound too harsh. You want her to trust you, and even if your working relationship up till now hasn't been civil – though perhaps maybe just in your head – you know something has gone wrong and you want to fix it.  
«I lost them.» She shrugs and turns to the computer as if nothing was wrong. It takes you a moment to realize and then you do.  
You do not say a word and you just limit yourself to walk out gracefully from the shared office. It takes half a morning and a series of cross-questionings, but you have the means and the knowledge to find out everything you need so you come to find out that a small group of F1 was seen lurking at dawn in the locker room. You cross check the shifts rotation and with a quick look at the surveillance tape you close down on three F1s who may have your daughter's age, and in their lockers you find both uniform and badge of your co-leader.  
«Your fan club is getting a bit too bold.» You say through the office door, dropping the recovered stolen goods next to Bernie who looks at you amazed as her cheeks flush with shame.  
«Sorry.» She mutters as if the fault was really hers. You choose not to comment. You're on speaking terms now but that doesn't mean you will suddenly turn into best friends. A healthy competition in the ward seems to you more useful.  
You start to enjoy the collaboration with Angel Hair in the operating room, her concentrated, serious look and that dark and damned glint in her eyes – which you think is due to all those who her eyes have seen in the war – is undeniably attractive and you can, in part, understand why all those F1s are madly in love with her, even if it constantly reminds you of how your body has not kept pace with menopause while Berenice Wolfe still looks like a bloody model despite have your same age. This always gives you a pang of jealousy at the thought.  
But it is just a week later, when you have lost a child to the operating room, you really feel a connection with the woman. Your bloody hands inside the small broken body - he had less than ten years and life had been so unfair to him - and it is there that you see for the first time Bernie Wolfe as a human being. Angel hair is broken and does not give up. She tries to make the little heart beat, she goes on for an eternity, she can not believe what is happening and blames herself for everything.  
You reach for her hands, you stop them. You look into her hurt eyes and you say that it's over, there's nothing else you can do, and that is not her fault. You can see, for the first time, in the back of her eyes, tears of defeat. You keep holding your hand as you call time of death and you can feel her fingers, soaked with blood, contract against the palm of your hand. 

You go grab a drink at Albie a few hours later and you allow yourself to lower your defences, and finally out of the hospital it seems the bar is a neutral zone in which you both can ease down. You learn that Bernie drinks whiskey when she is feeling down, you learn about things you thought impossible. She has two children you knew nothing about, an ex-husband and a former lover, she tells you about Alex on the fourth whiskey and on the fifth she tells you of how many men and women she lost in all those years in the army. She still remembers the names, still sees their faces, at night when she cannot sleep alone in her one bedroom apartment. You feel stupid for having judged her so harshly for so long and you allow your body to get close to her and place a reassuring hand on her knee while she rattles off names of lives that are no more, those she was not able to save.  
«It's not your fault.» You try to comfort her but she does not seem able to find peace, serenity. Suddenly you feel all her pain and a bottle of Shiraz, doesn't seem enough to appease your inner earthquake. 

You end up drunkenly confessing the bitterness of your lives. You tell tales of what a horrible husband Edward was, of Elinor that despite this had preferred to live with him rather than you and of how your meetings are too short and too infrequent. You tell of your mother passing without even being able to recognize you. You tell her how your life has never been full of love and understanding, of how everyone always expected to see you remain stoic and strong.  
You end up being a woman angry with the whole world.  
You suddenly feel emotional towards Angel Hair and you promise yourself that, tomorrow, you'll be a better person for both of you.  
You shake hands as if it were a solemn promise, and you feel like you're back in primary school exchanging promises with your then best friend. You feel childish, but now, with Bernie beside you, you don't care about it. That's just what you need: to let go and not feel judged for everything and, apparently, angel hair is as drunk as you so you stop caring. You go to bed and you feel less alone, less angry than you have been in years and you sleep peacefully until your alarm rings in the next morning. That's rare for you.  
Days pass quietly and you are surprised that Bernie does not escape anymore when you share the same space, you have become familiar with each other and are pleased with the way things are going better for everyone, you realize that maybe your initial feeling of a constant competition was dictated only by the creeping jealousy you felt towards angel hair.  
Only when you smile now, she flushes red and flees through the department before returning several minutes later. Maybe, you think, no one had ever treated her as an equal and that shakes her up.

Two days later, however, your new friendship is put to the test and you start to think all over again that friendship between you is not a good idea at all. You see her at the nurses' station collecting charts and then bend down too close to Morven, whispering something in her ear that sends the girl in a turmoil. And you know that you shouldn't care about it, that they are both adults and that Bernie loves women and that's fine by you. You have felt an attraction to some women in your life, so you can not blame her for this, but there is something in that scene that grates on your nerves. You're suddenly furious and unable to concentrate on anything but the image of angel hair too close to Morven's face to be considered an innocent gesture. You face her in the office that afternoon when the anger is still fresh.  
«The hospital's policy on relationships between mentors and subordinates is severe and I will take care that no one here takes advantage of her position to have relations with other staff members.» You say in one breath and she just seems disoriented and confused by your words.  
«Serena I...» She tries to tell you but seems at a loss for words, so you continue to explain the disciplinary proceedings and you don't know why but talking about it makes you even angrier.  
You're explaining your point, and are secretly wondering why she isn't at least trying to defend her position when, suddenly, you realize she has used your name for the first time.  
You get stuck and words cease to come out of your mouth. In a moment you think that her lips have just touched your name and that it's the most beautiful thing you've ever heard. You start blushing for no reason and you stare at her as if seeing her for the first time. An awkward silence falls onto the small office and Bernie suddenly seems capable of doing what you just can not do.  
«I will respect the hospital's policy, certainly. It was not my intention to do the anything different.»  
She states and you realize you've been silent the whole time and the only sound bouncing around in your empty head is that of her voice saying your name.  
«I'll talk to Morven myself...» You try to say and see her open her eyes wide in shock.  
«Morven?» She questions as if it were the most ridiculous thing she'd ever heard and, for the second time, you blush for no reason while the room is filled with her strange, strong and very peculiar laugh.  
«Is that what you think?» There is a weird harshness to her voice that you've never heard before and it makes you uncomfortable. She seems disappointed and angry and this angers you in turn. How dare she deny her actions which had been so obvious this morning.  
«Morven yes, but also all those girls always buzzing around you as if you were their sun. This thing has got to stop. Stop giving hope to all those poor things, or I'll have to ask Hanssen to take measures.» You stop, and do not know the reason for all this sudden renewed hatred.  
«I did not ask for this! I did not ask to have this trail following me everywhere, I feel uncomfortable and embarrassed by all this attention, I wish for this to be very clear.» Bernie seem arrogant to you at the moment and you gather all your sarcasm letting the words fly out of your lips before the rational side of your brain can stop them.  
«That's what it is then, you're too perfect and others annoy you from the hight of your perfection.» You say only to regret it the second after seeing the expression on her face harden and her eyes become watery.  
«If that's what you think of me...» She doesn't finish her sentence, opens the office door before stepping out and roughly slamming the door behind her. When the shutters stop swinging for the force of the blow, you let yourself fall down on your chair and curse yourself for your words. You ruined everything.  
For the following days all Berenice Wolfe does is question all your choices and, when she's sure you're watching her, she puts a hand on the waist, shoulder - or any other part of the body she can reach – of a nurse, or an F1, she approaches them and compliments them on their hair or perfume. This drives you mad. That's not a behaviour to be kept in the hospital, there are codes of conduct, and she knows it.  
You're increasingly angry with her, but the thing that breaks you is what happens one evening as you're leaving the parking lot. You're tired and the day has been long and full of difficult surgeries where you and Angel Hair have been thrown together, and your only remaining hope is that of passing through the parking lot without running into her again. But karma wants something different for you and, while look for the keys to your car, you see her in an embrace with a stunning redhead next to her car. You exchange scowls and she then bends to kiss her beautiful companion, and you, you can swear she's putting more passion into it than warranted and that she's doing it for your discomfort. You turn on the car and leave the parking lot as fast as you can, driving past the couple that angers you so much. 

You stop talking altogether and the whole department knows that something has happened but you put on a fake smile and make sure that all things are running smoothly.  
That's so not the case, but you won't be the first to take a step towards the haughty army doctor, even if the Queen herself ordered you to do so. You're stubborn even if it means not cooperating in the operating room anymore, letting the number of deaths in the AAU increase, destroying any positive rating of your department. You are too damn stubborn.  
You go on like this for days and everyone seem overly busy trying to get you two to talk to each other again. The most reckless is Raf trying to convince you that what was between you worked damn well good and that you are both too stubborn for your own good. You make quick work of him by threatening him with a transfer to another ward if he keeps on talk of Angel Hair.  
Flecth merely starts making giddy faces every time you find yourself in the same room with her without yelling at each other. Pathetic.  
Anonymous cards start appearing on your desk and when you read the latest one you decide that it is time for everyone to mind their own business – _It's about time you two stop arguing like lovebirds and please confess your feelings!_ \- The card is an anonymous A4 sheet of paper printed in big bold letters. You tear it furiously and you would set fire to the entire waste bin to erase those childish stupid and baseless words from the face of the earth if it wasn't a hazard for the entire hospital.  
You're not attracted to Angel Hair, there is no way.  
Hate, that is what you have for her, not love!  
You walk through the department as if you were a loaded tank and you give a lecture to the entire staff rallied to the nurses' station. After a stern warning from you, they all seem to be able to go back to minding their own lives, leaving you and Bernice Wolfe to mind yours.  
After your words of fire with the staff you feel strangely lighter and happier than you have felt in days. You feel satisfied with the power you still hold inside the hospital. You walk to the locker room, you will shortly have to do a delicate operation on a young woman and you have to change your clothes. You get in the dressing room and all your pride falls away when you see Bernie in her undergarments. You see the long endless legs, the black cotton briefs, her sculpted ass inside, her perfect back and, finally, her golden curls pulled back into a low ponytail at her nape. You blush but Bernie does not even seem to notice your presence. She turns to you and you glimpse at the sports bra, the shape of her breasts. You remain speechless at the sight of it all and you realize that she is now just staring at you, but your eyes cannot stop to scan the statuesque body of the blonde.  
«That's what they do to you army guys.» You say before you can stop yourself and then bite on your tongue a second later. Bernie seems to think about it, she looks into your eyes, she stares and her smile becomes mischievous for a second. You know she is going to say something that will make you angry but at the last second she decides to remain silent, shaking her head only to grab the her scrubs and start dressing without saying a word. When she finishes, she just passes you by and leaves without giving you a second look. You let go of the tension that you kept while standing up and you lean on the row of lockers to help you stay upright. You feel stupid. While you change your clothes, Angel Hair's body continues to jump into your brain and doesn't leave not even when you walk into the operating room. Her long legs – _stop it, Serena!_ \- the expanse of creamy skin... you blink your eyes as if to banish the image from inside your brain. You start wondering how it would feel to touch that skin as your hands are working inside someone's body. You are breathing heavily inside your mask and the nurses around you seem worried. They do not know what just happened but you are a professional, you see naked people every day, so how is it that the Berenice Wolfe's body makes you so uncomfortable?  
You go home at the end of your shift and all you want to do is be able to sleep peacefully but, even then, it seems your brain does not give you peace. You fall asleep, but all you can dream of is Bernie inside that locker room, is you saying that nonsense about the army guys and then, suddenly, her moving towards you. She crushes your body against the lockers and suddenly you're half-naked as well.  
She finds her way with her hand inside your panties while kissing you hungrily. You gasps and finally touch her shoulders, her strong biceps, her waist, her hips. Your hands come to her backside while she makes you yours. And as she kneels in front of you with a mischievous smile, all you can do is shout Bernie's name. You awake up sweaty, agitated and upset. A dull throbbing between your legs grabs your attention. You touch yourself to tone it down while the dream keeps popping up behind your closed eyelids.  
You come with Bernie's name on your lips.

The next day at the hospital you're feeling uncomfortable about your dream, and every time a flash of golden hair appears in your ward you escape as far away as possible so as not to cross Berenice Wolfe's path. You have the feeling that, however, today fate is going to be particularly cruel to you and you and up crossing paths several times just for the sake of you becoming flushed and stammering. Every time it happens you think she'll be able to see through your thoughts while leaning deliberately too close to your hip or letting your hands touch just enough to turn your legs as weak as jelly.  
Things start getting ridiculous and you just want to get back the life you had before the arrival of Angel Hair. What had seemed a mess then, is now a complete disaster. You hate her for it but you can't help but dream of her night after night. Dreams with you naked, sometimes in your bed, other times on your desk, or the supply closet. You wake up every night with heart pounding in your chest, and have taken many more cold showers now than you've ever had in your entire life.  
It's absurd, you hate her and you also hate the fact that your brain decided to have a completely different opinion about your co-leader. 

You sit down one evening with a bottle of Shiraz and a large glass. You've always been brave and now you wonder why all these thoughts and emotions raging inside you are scaring and disorienting you. You pour the first glass and start thinking about the first time you saw Angel Hair cross AAU's threshold. She was magnificent and beautiful in her uniform, but you had not cared about that in the least then, angry as you were by her delay. Silly, you think, everyone else around you had admired her while you were missing the whole show. That's where it all began. You gulp a generous sip of wine and think back to her body. At the second big gulp you think back to the times your hands have touched in the operating room and of how you've felt yourself being run through by an electric shock at the feeling, what makes you mad is that she will not even have noticed it, and it's when you pour the second glass and gulp it down in one swift move, that awareness grabs you.  
She doesn't look at you.  
That's why.  
She does not even know you exist. She looks at everyone else, smiles them, but your eyes almost never meet. This realization brings you tears of frustration - _Why don't you look at me? I am here. Look at me! I like you so much!_ \- Your brain screams in agony as tears roll out of your eyes and flow relentlessly down your cheeks.  
The only company is the bottle and you drink until you are left with no more tears.  
You feel childish and silly for crying so desperately over a woman who, as soon as she sees you, tries to escape a thousand miles away from you. But it seems you can't keep your emotions at bay, and suddenly you're still angry with Bernie.  
The image of her in the parking lot while kissing another, comes to mind. You know you're old and angry while the girl is young, beautiful, with a gorgeous body. Can you really blame Bernie for choosing her and not you? You think back to them and see them beautiful and unattainable, two models with long legs and breathtaking bodies that could well pose for a fashion magazine. Bernie will never look at you. You know that, but even so you had believed - _silly Serena Campbell_ \- that she would have noticed you. - _A little more than overestimated_ \- you tell yourself as you drag yourself up to your bedroom and let yourself fall down, still dressed, on the covers. «Bernie» You mutter and then fall asleep dreaming of sweet kisses between you.

The next morning you nurse a headache, but your thoughts have never been more clear. You show up on the ward and immediately your eyes scan the entire floor in search of bright blonde hair.  
You're unlucky, she's nowhere to be found.  
You check on the hospital computer her shifts and see hers will only start in the afternoon. You take a breath and you wait.  
The afternoon arrives but Bernie doesn't.  
When the end of your turn comes you give up and go home. A negative feeling follows you throughout the night and you dream of her wounded and in agony, you never being able to tell her you love her. You watch her die from behind a thick glass separating you and you scream with all your breath, but she's lying motionless and unconscious on an hospital bed and cannot hear you. 

You wake up distressed and go to the hospital long before the beginning of your shift. You feel silly, everyone can get a day off, and yet, the unpleasant feeling does not cease to hold you in its grasp. You check the admittance charts of the day before until you find BERENICE GRISELDA WOLFE.  
Your heart stops beating for an endless second as you read the name on the computer screen.  
You jump to action, you scan her chart and then run through the hospital in search of her room, without even noticing that was a one day stay for a series of tests and she is therefore no longer there.  
When you get there everyone looks at you bewildered.  
«Ms Campbell, what brings you here?» Dr. Griffin questions you and you're not mentally prepared to give him an answer. Ric does not even seem to notice, busy as he is searching for something behind the admit desk. He hands you a big chart filled with test results.  
«I should give them to Ms. Wolfe in person, but I assume you will see her before me, so could you deliver them when she comes into the office?» He asks and you suddenly wake up grabbing the chart that is offered as if it were the greatest gift the entire universe has ever given you. You feel euphoric for a moment and a smile finally appears on your face. The prospect of having an excuse to talk to Bernie if only to deliver the chart, to know that she will soon be on the ward.  
The world is finally turning in the right direction.  
«You can count on it.» You reassure him trying not to sound too happy at the idea.  
When you get to the office you shut the door, close the blinds and turn on the light on your desk. You sit on your chair, hidden by your computer screen and then check that no one can see inside your office.  
You hold the chart with trembling hands and take a deep breath. In it could be the most devastating of news or the most insignificant diagnosis of a cold. You've never had sweaty palms before, but what you are about to do - illegal and a secretly as well- makes your hands perspire. You get a letter opener, and with immense precision detach the two paper strips that keep the envelope sealed. For a moment you think you should have used steam as you've seen do in many a spy movie, but who knows if that even really works. You take out the scans inside and you study them. You are speechless and your eyes water as you watching the battered spine of the woman you love.  
You had no idea she had gone through all that. You don't hear the door open until Bernie speaks. «What -» She's about to ask, only to dive quickly over you and tearing her scans from your hands. You jolt back. You let a watery sigh escape as you look at her with wet eyes.  
«Where did you get these?» She questions and you don't understand if she's scared or angry.  
«They were on your desk. I thought they were a patient's.» You lie for fear she might hate you, when your heart is pounding in your chest. You missed her voice so much that, even if now you are in an uncomfortable situation, only hearing it fills you with nostalgia and love.  
«They're just all the routine tests I will have to go through forever from now on since they blew me up in Afghanistan.» She explains putting the scans back inside the envelope, once again depriving yourself of her gaze and suddenly it's as if all the dots in your head were coming magically together and you understand why an army medic should suddenly decide to get transferred to a civilian structure, a decision apparently rather forced down upon her.  
You have looked at the scans and you wonder how she survived a bomb. Now you are grateful to whoever saved her with screws and metal rods in her back.  
«You never said...» Your tone is close to tears, you know you have not been an exemplary colleague and a friend on which someone might count. There had been a good start but then everything had gone to hell and you don't want to remember any of it. But would you now really deny the person you love happiness? Even if that happiness didn't depend on you? You look at her profile as she holds the results in her hands.  
You think she is perfect and beautiful and that you've never felt so attracted to someone in your life.  
You would be willing to do anything for her, even if only to become her friend and keep your feelings of love confined to yourself for all eternity.  
«I'm sorry for...» You make a vague gesture with your hand as if to indicate the whole of it: you, her, the situation unresolved between you. You're not sure she got it.  
«I have a confession to make.» She tells you and you hang from her lips.  
«The girl in the car park ...» There you go, just the conversation you wouldn't have wanted to have.  
«I'm sorry, Bernie. I don't want you to think I hate you, or even her...» well maybe just a little, «I am not that kind of person, I think you're...» and you mean to say - _Perfect, wonderful, I want to kiss you, kiss me!_ \- But you get stuck, you think it's too great a feeling to confess.  
«That it's wonderful you are loved.» You go on to say. Even you love her, everybody loves Bernie, no, definitely not how you wanted your sentence to come out.  
«Okey.» She answers as if suddenly emptied of the determination of a few minutes before and she averts her gaze again.  
«Look at me.» You whisper more to yourself that to the woman in front of you. You take a deep breath and try again.  
«Look at me.» This time with a little more conviction. You see her eyes move imperceptibly toward you and then escape again.  
«Why won't you look at me?» You ask, this time a little more exasperated, you're tired of waiting you want to know if this might break your already tenuous relationship and reduce you to tears, but it seems that, finally, your words resonate. With an agonizingly long slow movement you see her turning her face towards you and capture your stare.  
It seems to you you have lived your whole life for this one moment when your eyes meet and she blushes imperceptibly.  
«Don't...» She begins tentatively, but before she can even move away form you an inch to run away, you gather her cheeks in your hands so that her eyes cannot escape.  
Whatever the outcome you don't want her to back off and you won't allow her to do so.  
«Tell me.» Her frightened doe gaze makes you whisper, like a mother to her babies. Her gaze becomes even wider.  
«You would not believe me.» She snorts, you can feel her heart beating fiercely in the chest and it takes you a moment to understand the words.  
«Try me.» What you know is you've always been a gambling woman when it comes to feelings and you place your bets that there is a small chance she shares your feelings.  
The adorable blush on her cheeks, her fast breathing and her hands that seem ready to grab at you at any moment.  
She bites her lip and you're about to yell at her to do something for God's sake, and then she bends down and your lips are suddenly pressed together.  
You lean on even more on the kiss and let your eyes close to enjoy even more the heavenly too brief feeling. You're both breathless, staring at each other without saying a word.  
«This.» She snorts and you find her adorable.  
«I'm sorry, I... I tried not to feel this attraction. I don't want to make you uncomfortable...» She blabbering, expressing her feelings out loud. What you had learned of Bernie Wolfe up to now is that she's not very vocal and what is happening now is a rare and precious gift.  
«You're a fool.» The warn sternly, leaving her puzzled to stutter something undefined you can not grasp, and before she decides to run away from the office - or from England altogether- you reach out, connecting your lips for the second time that day. She lets out a little surprised sound, but offers no resistance.  
She grabs your waist and pulls you to her, deepening the kiss, making you groan as you savour the feeling of your bodies pressed together and the heat of your kiss that this time lasts much longer as you roll your hands down her cheeks - where they remained the whole time - up to her neck and to her adorable Angel Hair. You hope this is not one of your dreams from which you will wake up.  
You part and her dark look of desire makes you tremble. You find out you are no longer able to breathe properly.  
«The parking lot girl?» You ask and you know it's masochistic of you, but you have to know. She laughs without moving an inch away from you.  
«She's a dear friend. She knew of my crush and had the idea of the kiss was hers because she was sure you were just jealous.» She admits with a smile.  
What a fool you had been. It had all been so obvious even to a stranger while you had not understood anything of it yourself.  
«Of course I was jealous. She is beautiful! I was jealous of every woman you approached, you are fantastic and beautiful and everyone always falls at your feet. All you have to do is draw from the deck.» You admit and it's hard to keep a reproachful look, and you know you're failing miserably as Bernie can read in your eyes which show you are ashamed of feeling so childish.  
«You're beautiful. And it is you I wanted to draw from the deck from the first time I saw you.» She tells you, and it's your turn to blush - _oh God, thank you so much for making me feel like a silly teenager_ – you try to communicate with a look she ignores only to kiss you senseless once again.  
«I never thought I had a chance with you.» You admit, wanting to be absolutely honest now.  
«I thought I had no chance with you, Ms. Serena the-hospital-rules-have-to-be-respected-Campbell.» You roll your eyes at her words. Never mind hospital rules, this woman had made you roll over every rule of your own heart. You smile at each other and you think you've wasted a lot of time and worries over nothing.  
«Someone once said that a man travels many roads to find what they truly need, but that they must return home to find it.» She says and it seems to you the most amazing thing in the universe as you think of her in a far away desert, surrounded by bombs who have broken her back if not her spirit, and you feel the luckiest woman alive to be able to testify that love and happiness are still possible on this earth  
«Then well come home Ms. Wolfe.» You smile and you know that from today everything won't be perfect, you know you don't live in a fairytale, but in your darkest and worst days you will from now on be able to lean on the support and understanding of the woman you love.


End file.
